


with each word, your tenderness grows

by spinning_out



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, adhd david rights, please let them be happy in s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29181000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinning_out/pseuds/spinning_out
Summary: David spends a day at home by himself. He struggles to keep himself in good spirits.
Relationships: Brad Bakshi/David Brittlesbee
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	with each word, your tenderness grows

**Author's Note:**

> me projecting my problems onto both brad AND david? it’s more likely than you think
> 
> i got this idea around 1AM last week, jotted it down in my notes app, and immediately fell back asleep 
> 
> title is from The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra

David’s day hadn’t been the best from the start. He woke up with a headache, having no motivation to get up and go to work. He rolled over in bed, winding his arms around Brad, who was already awake. His boyfriend was propped up against the headboard of their bed and was scrolling through his phone. David’s grip tightened around Brad’s waist and Brad combed a strand of hair away from David’s face.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Brad teased, earning a tired groan from David.  
“I have a headache,” David stated. “Can I stay home from work today?”  
“I mean, it’s not my decision to make. You _are_ technically the boss.”  
David sat up slowly. “You’re right.”  
“Do you want me to tell Ian you’re home sick?”  
“I’d like that very much.” David hummed, leaning over to kiss Brad’s cheek. “You’re the best.”  
“I know.”

David still felt exhausted an hour later, as Brad was about to leave. They had eaten breakfast together, so David’s weariness wasn’t a result of hunger. Brad twirled his car keys around his fingers and pressed a kiss to David’s lips before walking towards the door.  
“I don’t have that much work to do today, so I’ll try to be home early.” Brad promised.  
“I love you.” David called after him.  
“I love you too.”

And with that, David was by himself. 

He crossed his legs in front of him on the couch, looking around the room. He had the day to himself and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with all the extra time. David figured that he could at least get a little bit of work done, only having to send out a few emails. He opened his laptop and placed it in front of him. The screen felt too bright, and his eyes immediately grew heavier. He didn’t have a lot to work on and this could be done later, so maybe a nap wouldn’t hurt.

David woke up around 2:30 PM, which was 6 hours after he had fallen asleep. His headache had subsided, but he felt guilty for not having done any of his actual work. David bounced his foot against the floor, grabbing his laptop again from where it was still on the couch. He couldn’t stop glancing at the clock on his screen, only focusing on the minutes ticking by. 

David shook his head and took a deep breath. It wasn’t even getting late, and he had plenty of time. His email inbox was surprisingly full, but that’s just the price of being executive producer. David opened an email from Sue, reviewing player activity in relation to the feedback they would actually receive. None of the words were registering in his brain, and the words he was able to pick up on just got scrambled together. The one day that David needed to focus, was when his brain didn’t let him. David tried breaking up the email into smaller sections, concentrating on one sentence at a time. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t helping much. He flexed his fingers, continuously hitting his closed fists into his thighs. He wasn’t doing it very hard, nor was he fully paying attention to the fact that he was doing it. 

David managed to read through and reply to Sue’s email eventually, feeling accomplished for just a moment. He worked on sending out a few more emails, trying to ignore how much time it was taking him to just finish this simple task. 

David shook out his hands again, soon looking in the living room for something to move around in his fingers. He sought out his fidget cube, checking under pillows and in drawers. The living room was a no, so he walked down the hallway to the bedroom. It wasn’t anywhere in there either, and it wasn’t in any of his coat pockets. 

The longer it took, the more frazzled David began to feel. He didn’t know how he could’ve misplaced the toy so easily. With a slightly shaky hand, he pulled out his phone to dial Brad.

“Hey, Davey.” Brad answered.  
“Hi,” David said quickly. “Do you know where my fidget cube is?”  
“Did you check the drawer in the kitchen? I usually put it there if I find it.”  
_The kitchen,_ David thought. _How did I manage to forget to check the kitchen?_  
“Is everything okay?” Brad asked, and David could practically hear the panic edging its way into Brad’s voice.  
“Yeah, don’t worry.” David reassured. “I just couldn’t find where I left it.”  
“I’ll be home soon, okay?”  
“Okay. Thank you, I love you.”  
“Love you too, see you soon.”

The line disconnected, and David silently chided himself for not thinking to check the kitchen drawer. He probably made Brad worry, which was what he wanted to avoid. David found the cube quickly, running his fingers over it as he pulled it out of the drawer. He sat back down in front of his laptop and made a goal to finish as much work as he could. 

An hour and a few small distractions later, David hit send on his last email. He leaned back against the couch and ran a hand over his face. David spun one of the knobs on his cube again, just trying to get everything out of his system. He carefully placed the fidget toy back down on the table, making sure not to lose track of it this time. 

David walked into the kitchen again, grabbing himself a glass of water. He stopped to look at the calendar hanging in the dining room. It was 80s themed, and all the photos were pictures of classic rock bands. Brad had spotted it when they were out shopping one day, and David had eagerly agreed to buy it. A few words were written on various dates, mainly just meeting reminders and their friends’ birthdays.

David’s eyes paused on the spot for August 11th, which was the current date. It would’ve been his and Anna’s wedding anniversary, and coincidentally enough, it also marked the date that his parents officially split. 

Since things just couldn’t go well for David for very long, he was hit by a wave of painful memories from his childhood. He still could practically hear his mother’s harsh words echoing inside of his head. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. but it hadn’t happened when he was alone in a long time. Usually Brad was there to comfort him, there to hold him close and reassure him that he was okay. David didn’t want to call Brad again, nervous that it would be bothersome to call twice within the span of a few hours. David was doing an alright job at keeping his breathing steady, but all of his surroundings seemed to keep ambushing his senses. 

David quickly realized that music always helped him relax, though he was unsure as to how he didn’t think of that first. David was jittery as he moved into his bedroom, once again hitting his hands against his legs to keep himself feeling grounded. He sat down on the floor next to the vintage record player he had. David skimmed through his seemingly never-ending collection of vinyls, looking for something to play as a distraction. His headache had returned, and the breaths he was taking only kept getting shallower the longer he searched. David carefully placed a Fleetwood Mac album on the player, turning on the music and letting it wash over him. 

Growing up, creative expression wasn’t appreciated by the Brittlesbee family. Well, not by anyone except for David. David always had an interest in the arts, but his parents constantly dismissed him for it, afraid it would make him “soft.” David’s mom didn’t think he was creative or talented enough to pursue a career in something that wasn’t business, and she made that perfectly clear to him whenever she got the chance. His dad certainly never argued with her point, though that was the only thing they never argued about. 

The main thing David relied on as an escape was music. Of course, he was never allowed to play any instruments or anything himself, but his parents didn’t seem to care if David just listened to it. He kept a small record player in his bedroom, one that he often used to drown out the sound of his parents fighting. No matter what was going on in the rest of the house, David always had music to rely on. 

David built up a record collection over time, appreciating the nostalgia that came with it. He bought vinyls at most chances that he got, and always loved getting new ones as gifts. David’s records ranged anywhere from ABBA to Paul Anka to Billy Idol, and he was constantly expanding onto it. After any long or stressful days he had, he could sit back and close his eyes, letting all the pent up tension leave his body. 

Now, David kept his head pressed against the wall behind him, his legs tucked up to his chest and his arms just bringing them closer. David was letting the few stray tears in his eyes roll down his face, trying to block out his surroundings. He ran his hands through his already messy hair, not bothering to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. He could’ve curled up and stayed in that spot for a long time, not wanting to move and risk immediately starting to panic again. David leaned forward and rested his forehead against the tops of his knees, crossing his arms over his head in a protective position. 

It was almost like he was 15 again, locked in his bedroom to keep himself separate from his yelling parents. He could almost still feel the sting on his cheek from where his father would’ve struck him just minutes before. 

David had to keep reminding himself that that’s not where he was. He was home, he was safe, nobody was gonna hurt him. It was just irrational panic and stress that was getting to him. David wasn’t sure if that helped any. His mind was racing, reflecting on everything that had gone wrong during the day. He had panicked over misplacing his fidget cube, taken a much longer nap than he should’ve, and struggled sending out a small handful of emails. Anyone else would’ve pointed out that they were minuscule problems, with simple solutions, but David was still filled with guilt. 

David cleared his head, trying to fight through the ragged breaths and choked off sobs that were escaping him. He turned up the music just slightly louder, zoning in on the beat of the song. His crying had died down to harsh sniffling within a few minutes, though his breathing hadn’t become any slower. 

Brad came home around 5:00, walking into the living room to find no sign of David. Brad only saw his laptop, glasses, and fidget cube were on the coffee table. 

David heard the door open and close, and the sound of Brad saying his name was distant. David didn’t answer, but he assumed that Brad could hear the music coming from the record player. 

“David, I’m home!” Brad called from down the hallway. 

He checked for David in the kitchen, and stopped in his tracks at the sound of music playing faintly from the bedroom. At least he knew where David was now. Brad knew that David played music to destress, and that must’ve been what he was doing now. 

Brad walked briskly down the hallway, but opened the door quietly so David didn’t get scared at the sudden noise. He saw David sitting with his head down, back against the wall, shoulders shaking slightly as he took deep breaths. The record that was on had just finished playing, and Brad carefully lifted the needle and turned off the system. He kneeled down in front of David, gently pulling David’s hands away from where they were tangled in his hair. 

David tensed when Brad touched him, so Brad moved back.  
“Can I touch you right now, or do you want more time alone?” Brad asked, speaking in a soft voice.  
“I don’t wanna be touched,” David answered, but spoke up again before Brad could leave. “Can you stay in here with me though?”

Brad didn’t say anything, but he sat down next to David. He was close enough that David could reach out if he wanted, but he wasn’t quite close enough for them to be touching. David didn’t have his face hidden anymore, and he was resting his chin against the tops of his knees. Brad was looking at him, but David kept his own eyes trained on the floor in front of him. He was still sniffling quietly, trying to keep more tears from spilling down his face. 

“You sounded a little frantic when you called me before.” Brad observed.  
“I was stressed, and tired, and I couldn’t focus on the work I had. Then it got worse, and I came in here.” David explained.  
“What happened?”  
David hesitated. “It’s August 11th.”  
Brad understood the significance of the date. “I’m assuming the panic attack was because of your parents, right?”  
David nodded and put the back of his head against the wall. His hands were shaking, but he reached one out towards Brad. He placed it on the floor in between them, his palm up. Brad laced his fingers through David’s, giving his hand a quick squeeze. 

“You’re not alone with this.” Brad said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.  
David nodded again, understanding that Brad had had his own fair share of struggles in his past. 

Similar to David, Brad was a child of divorce. His parents split when Brad was only a baby, so he had no memory of living with his dad. His mom raised him and his older sister, and she did the best she could. Brad’s dad was still a part of his life, as they would see each other on weekends. His mom never seemed very thrilled to see his dad, but Brad tried to never pay it any mind.

The older Brad got, the less he was able to see his dad. Brad started having more weekend plans, and his dad just kept moving houses. He went from living 20 minutes away, to almost 2 whole hours. They kept in as much contact as they could, even if their visits weren’t as frequent. Brad’s older sister only grew increasingly disinterested in seeing their dad, as did his mom, and Brad never understood why. 

When he was 15, his dad stopped trying to reach out. He still lived somewhere in California, but Brad already hadn’t seen him in 2 years, so he didn’t see the point in looking for him. 

Nearly 30 years later, and Brad still didn’t look. 

David squeezed Brad’s hand tighter, grabbing his attention.  
“Can you talk about what happened during work today?” David requested. “It’ll probably help pull me out of whatever weird slump I’m still in.”  
“Of course.” Brad hummed.  
“Thanks.”  
“Well, uh, C.W. accidentally started a small fire in his office today.”  
Brad went into the story about C.W., and how he learned _not_ to leave a candle burning when there’s miscellaneous papers scattered across his desk. No matter how many drafts of cutscenes had been burned, the staff was able to make light of the situation. They were just thankful that C.W. (or anyone else) hadn’t gotten hurt. Putting out a fire while spending time with the head writer certainly wasn’t on Brad’s agenda. For that day, or any other.

David couldn’t contain his laughter as Brad retold the events of the work day. He looked over at his boyfriend, watching as a smile broke out across his face from laughing too. Brad was probably the prettiest person David had ever seen, and David almost wanted to cry at how happy Brad looked in this moment. Maybe it was more than just happiness though, he almost looked _relieved._

David practically tackled Brad in a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso. Brad was a little caught off guard, but he hugged back without any hesitation. David readjusted his head, leaning it against Brad’s chest. He hadn’t even realized he was crying again until Brad rubbed a hand up and down his back, repeating words of reassurance in a hushed tone. 

David propped himself back up again, making eye contact with Brad. Brad cupped David’s cheek with his hand, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. David leaned into Brad’s touch, wiping at his other cheek with his sleeves. 

“Thank you,” David said. “For being here to comfort me, I mean.”  
“Always.” Brad responded, kissing David softly.  
“I love you, you know.”  
“I know, and I love you too.”

Brad stood, pulling David up off the floor and planting a quick kiss to his cheek. David sat back down on the edge of their bed, studying Brad as he walked over to David’s crate of records. 

“What are you doing?” David questioned, combing his hands through his hair to straighten it out.  
“You’ll see.” Brad said. He turned around and winked, making David furrow his eyebrows. 

Brad scanned through the records, pulling one out and placing it on the player. The machine crackled quietly, Brad turning it up just as the familiar music began to play. 

David immediately recognized the song as _The Way You Look Tonight_ by Frank Sinatra, a song that was a personal favorite of David’s. He wasn’t the biggest fan of jazz music, but this song reminded him of Brad, so he had a hard time not liking it. 

Brad held out his hand, smiling at the way David laughed and took hold of it. Brad placed his hand on the small of David’s back, guiding David’s hand to rest on Brad’s shoulder. He held their intertwined hands out to the side, swaying them back and forth to the music. 

_Some day, when I'm awfully low.  
When the world is cold,  
I will feel a glow just thinking of you.  
And the way you look tonight._

David smiled wider than he had all day, and so did Brad. Brad spun David around once, only making him laugh more. The warmth of their bodies pressed close together, and the silence of the rest of their house made David feel like they were the only people in the world.  
He almost melted when Brad began to sing along, serenading David as they danced. 

“Yes, you’re lovely,” Brad sang, giggling at the blush that spread across David’s face. “With your smile so warm.”

Brad kissed David on the cheek again. “And your cheeks so soft.” 

“There is nothing for me, but to love you.”  
David loved the sound of Brad’s voice, his face was almost starting to hurt from smiling so wide.

”And the way you look tonight.”  
Brad kissed David for the brief instrumental break of the song. Brad pulled away when the next verse came up, not stopping the rhythmic swaying of their bodies. He stumbled over the first few words, but continued to quietly hum along as David hooked his chin over Brad’s shoulder. 

Brad turned his head just enough to kiss David’s temple, resting his cheek against the top of David’s head.  
Brad couldn’t see it, but David kept a grin on his face until they neared the end of the song. 

“Just the way you look,” Brad sang once more, pausing accordingly with the music. In one quick move, Brad dipped David, almost falling down at first because of the shift in weight. David stifled a laugh and Brad rolled his eyes. 

“Toniiighttt.” Brad finished, slowly and sweetly capturing David’s lips one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> if david’s trauma/past isn’t taken seriously in season two then i’m gonna kick rob in the shins /hj
> 
> i have a hc that david owns a record collection (thank pinterest for that), so i wanted to work that in here somewhere 
> 
> i promise i know how to write more than just braddavid, but that doesn’t mean i’m gonna stop anytime soon
> 
> comments always make my day :)


End file.
